INSOMNIAC @ ISB

(A re-rendition of INSOMNIAC)

I look out the rooftop, much like an HBS protagonist,

to view a chequered board of black and white.

A disarrayed bunch of knights and pawns, pausing their 'game'

for a convivial evening together in the moonlight.

I see majestic structures of sandstone all around,

dotted with guiding lights and welcoming doors. 

Separated by elegant green-yellow tree canopies,

which shadow cohabitant peacocks, snakes and boars.

I hear the faint strumming of an acoustic guitar,

punctuated with the sound of laughter and applause.

And the gentle whisper of the wind singing along,

as it slips through the atrium's deftly pillared jaws.

I smell the scent of tulips in the cool midnight breeze
transmitting the energy of a hundred high-spirited friends.
The aroma of chocolate and vanilla adorning birthday cakes
crafted beautifully to celebrate prevailing campus trends.

I have indeed been robbed this time, for I now have no sleep.
Even as this last fateful night draws to a hurried close.
As the robbers flee from sight, I realize - they are none other
than the crimson sky, the flowing lawns and the lovely ISB folk.

~Arnav

The Medallion

My parents tell me it took a great deal of persuasion from them to make me enter the school gate on my first day in kindergarten. It was with the promise of my favourite chocolates that they could finally bribe me into spending eight hours away from home in the company of complete strangers. With a tiny bag and a water bottle, I set off on the path to enlightenment, completely unaware of what would lie ahead.

The process of 'education' commenced with learning the alphabet in carefree idleness, without having to bother about tutorials and pesky homework assignments. I had no competitors, for every rival was an innocent friend helping me build a sandcastle or planning fanciful treasure hunts in and around the school premises.

Gradually, smiling primary teachers were replaced by shrewish middle school instructors and then nutty professors whose facial expressions were, at any time, representative of the characteristic function 'f(x) = constant'. The contents of my schoolbag became heavier with each passing year. Academics now was a rat race in which mediocrity was not any better than failure. There were rewards to keep me motivated in this arduous enterprise. Every time I stood first in class or did exceptionally well in the annual exams, I received dainties from the school canteen, and sometimes, a bicycle or a holiday vacation present from mom and dad. 'Dolce far niente' was no longer permissible; it was displaced by drudgery and tedium, often resulting from my innumerable attempts to unscramble the Schrodinger equation.

Aspirations and expectations changed with time. Come Roorkee, I no longer cared for the occasional reward or censure. There was the higher motive of launching a successful career and smoothly transitioning to a life in which profession was the attribute that determined a person's ultimate destiny. Four years went by in a hurry, and all of a sudden, my 'education' was complete.

With the final oath, the convocation hat tossed in celebration, I have been vested with the right to pronounce myself an engineer. Today, as I stare at my degree certificate and the accompanying silver medal, glistening like a radiant emblem in all its lustre - now a souvenir from the past, things seem to have abruptly come to an end. I wonder if there's something to look forward to. If only I could relive the last four years....So long, alma mater !

REMINISCENCE

The crowd erupted in unison as Dhoni heaved his bat ferociously in his trademark helicopter-style, the bowler ducking for dear life. The poor Sri Lankan captain could only watch in vain as the ball disappeared into the stands, never to come back in play again. India had won the World Cup 2011, and I had been witness to a defining moment in world cricket history. A huge uproar resonated through the corridors of Ganga Bhawan; my own celebrations lost in the din of the numerous cricket-crazy rooters who had been cheering Team India right through the tournament. People all around me were dancing, clapping, brimming with pride and the joy of victory. Amidst all the jubilation, a complete stranger emerged from the congregation, greeting me with "Jeet gaye !" and locked me into a brief although firm embrace. It was then that I suddenly realized I can start counting my days at Roorkee, and how much I am going to miss this place after my purpose here is complete.

Hardly a few days have passed since I bid adieu to dear Alma Mater, yet each fleeting minute instills a fresh memory of the past four years. It seems as if all of it happened only yesterday as I tread nostalgically down memory lane.

The day I had been dreading had arrived. I stepped reluctantly into the cab that would take me to Delhi, from where IITR and I would part ways. The engine roared, and I waved goodbye to Pinky and his battalion stationed outside Cautley Bhawan, waving back at me. When I could no longer see them, I reclined against the soft cushion of the backseat and looked back at the years I had left behind. A succession of images flashed through my mind to merge into a kaleidoscope of my fondest memories of the four Golden years that constitute my life at Roorkee.


One

1. I was guarding my side of the room when Abhas entered, examining his roommate for the next one year and greeting me with a smile.
2. The freshers party had us swaying to the music, dancing to funky bollywood numbers for over two hours, with no sentience of time. It's surprising so many people wear moustaches in that picture - PJ, Chatter, Shirish, Pandu, Prateek, Mitwa, Doga and everybody else.
3. The Institute Cricket League, or ICL, inspired from the sport's latest Twenty20 avatar and the associated moolah, was catching up fast with the IITR junta. We had entered the tournament expecting nothing less than the trophy, and had emerged runners-up, owing to a laudable contribution from the Meta supporters jeering and howling insults at opponents, causing them to lose their focus and a piece of their minds.
4. The journey back from Crystal world. The first (and probably the last) time I have demanded a lift from an inter-state goods carrier with all kinds of fancy labels adorning its tough metallic frame.
5. Room no. G-75, RJB - the wing's bakar room, tutorial printing press, first-aid center and general store. Abhas and I trying to create more room to accommodate half of the meta batch inside.
6. Strikey. Pinky feeding the poor pup little crumbs of bread along with cookies mom had made for me with so much affection.
7. The NCC camp.

Two

8. A notice on my door ending with 'Issued in public interest. :)'
9. Midnight Football.
10. Sunsigns. I've never hated them so much. Working for a startup for the first time.
11. The phone call informing me I was now a part of IEEE. A 'geek'.
12. Thomso 2008 - the Karaoke misadventure. My first attempt at singing in public, of course, failing miserably.
13. Gandhi's tutorial class, MT-1 batch. A raging debate on the Economic turmoil shrouding world economy, and the United States' credit policy responsible for the crisis. Yet another assignment evaded.
14. Rafting in the Ganga for the first time. An adrenaline rush. Lying in coarse sands along the riverside, drenched in the Gangajal.

Three

15. The long wait outside the interview room in the placement complex, for our first company interview at IITR (Tata Steel).
16. Cognizance 2010. Sitting in the Cogni office as Chief Editor, writing for 'Souvenir'.
17. Bakar in the dark during power cuts - a regular occurrence before every mid term and end term.
18. The train to Chandigarh. Slipping by the examiner at Chandigarh station, unnoticed. Kondy emerging from the exit gate, grinning through his craggy teeth.
19. Communication skills class. Garvit trying hard to control himself from laughing as he speaks while Mahajan and company make funny gestures from the last bench.
20. Dhawal with his newfound talent in PJs.
21. A gang of counter-strike enthusiasts donning headphones huddled up in front of their laptops in Rajesh's room at midnight, with the Midsems commencing in a few hours.

Four

22. My first suit-up moment with Prateek and his camera, and the problem with the background (Mukul sir's door inscription in perfect disharmony with the attire).
23. Bhuppi's antics and the ensuing laughter.
24. Sandeep Kumar and Anunaya arguing, the topics - dowry, higher education abroad, corruption in government undertakings, and the common man. I always hoped they settled on a consensus sooner.
25. ZS's final interview, sketching a graph for the most random function ever, Jude keeping an eye over the lines appearing on the piece of paper pinned to the desk in front of him.
26. The Nainital trip - lovely montains, lush green fields, boating, watching the sun rising from a valley, Ranikhet's winding roads, hat(s).
27. Working in the prized Thermomechanical Simulator Lab with Shaibba, doing the most meaningful study and research I have engaged in till date.
28. Checking the grade against my name on the B.Tech Projects gradelist repeatedly to confirm if my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. Best Bachelor's Project award.
29. Geek Gazette farewell. Dracula, Green Goblin, Joker, Bin Laden and various other supervillains huddled up as the stars of the occasion. The entire team wishing me farewell by scribbling lines on my t-shirt to express their goodwill.


A loud bellowing of the horn brought me back to my senses, just as I reached the Security post. When the Tata Indigo exited the institute's main gate, it felt as if something was tugging at me to stay behind, for the track playing on the stereo abruptly changed to

"Dill tod ke na jaa
Muh mod ke na jaa...."

STALEMATE

Lost in a state of torpor, I struggle to hide a muffled yawn as my eyes water up from the exhaustion of having to listen to another lecture on 'Mechanical Working'. I manage to steal a quick glance at my watch, taking precaution the professor scribbling away notes on the board doesn't discover my impatience, and I rasp under my breath in frustation when I realize it's only been 20 minutes. Another 40 minutes to go - of course Ash Ray has no idea. He happily prods along, squawking in his omniscient but insipid tone, ever reminding us of how little we know of our own discipline. The particles of chalkdust settling on his beard and caput blend perfectly with the pale white pigment coating his hair. Unperturbed, he rattles on. He probably knows the pen I hold in my hand is never going to make contact with the blank diary resting on my table. And yet I can do nothing but listen, and fake interest.

Not long ago, I used to listen in ceaseless attention to each word he uttered; each principle or theorem he dictated making its way verbatim to the pages of my notebook. I was a 'first-bencher', a distinction not many would possess - not even the voracious pedant feeding on piles of textbooks and the sound of a learned professor giving away 'upadeshas' on the nuances of engineering. I remember raising my arm time and again to ask questions. I was the revered note-maker, the most reliable scholar for classmates. I was 'Baba' in the true sense of the word.

The times are changing.

In a few month's time, I will graduate as a Metallurgical and Materials engineer. Convocation is within sight. Soon we shall complete the ceremony announcing the end of four years of ordeal, and pass into a completely new world. I am about to make the transition from a student to a professional - I am employed. I also fancy a call from an IIM, the next big thing after IIT.
But I am no more the inquisitive student, the knowledge seeker, the 'first-bencher' - not in the classroom atleast. I have accomplished what I had planned for all this time, albeit a bit differently than imagined. With no purpose left, I can feel the inner flame within me wavering. I no more possess the driving force propelling me towards yet another goal, the inner unrest that would keep nagging and cautioning me - "Something is still lacking !".


I am stuck - clearly in need of a more meaningful pursuit during the last few months at Roorkee. Football, music and Cogni are just pastimes. I'm in search of a bigger challenge, a new objective - hoping to find a new 'me'. I wonder what it'd turn out to be, what I would turn out to be. For now, I'm just a 20 plus person aspiring to become a 20 minus dilettante once again, just so I am not devoid of a fervent tenor to keep moving forward.

The January chill has subdued my spirits for now. I'm waiting for the sheath of winter ice to melt away, so that I may free myself of the freezing frost immobilizing me, and feel the warmth of a new, illustrious sun rising.

MIDNIGHT OCTAVES

The last few months in Cautley Bhawan have witnessed innumerable power cuts, especially during the late hours, with the entire hostel plunging into darkness, cringing meekly to the moonlight and the aura of stars in the night sky. The shrewd, cunning administration, bent on reforming our approach to 'engineering' by making us realize the importance of regular study, has stuck to its sinister device of load shedding a day or two before the exams commence. These indeed have been testing times, wherein our cramming abilities have been brought to the fore, whilst persevering in our efforts not to let our focus waver from the illegible text confronting us that almost never makes sense - often for several hours at a stretch. All this in a time when digicams have superseded the more conventional xerox machines, and electricity is what drives a despondent undergraduate's chances of enduring the doom about to fall upon him.


More often than not, such dark, gloomy phases are marked by an eerie silence suggestive of inactivity. An envelope of abominable lull descends upon the environs surrounding us, threatening never to depart, much like an unsolicited, unwelcome guest, whom we cannot dismiss of our own will.

But yesterday was different.

Perhaps it was because of the holidays. We hadn't been preoccupied with our regular vexations - tutorials, assignments, presentations or any other engineering 'chores'. We still had much energy left for other, more entertaining pursuits. Maybe that was the reason we didn't give in to the dispiriting calm accompaning yet another power cut.

As a wise man once proclaimed (that would be me): "The greatest of ideas are conceived when a bunch of perplexed souls who have nothing to ponder about at all, come together for a long, inspiring 'bakar' session."
The question was - 'What could we do to while away time?' (After all, there was no prognosticating when we could expect 'normalcy' to return, even though our neighbours in RKB had it restored already.)

Charades? Nope, it was too dark to even see other faces, how could we figure out gestures ! Wordgames? A few backed out at the onset, the remaining couldn't continue for long, after it became evident participants were coining their own words out of the blue. What next? 'Antakshari' was lame, wasn't it? But apparently, there seemed to be no other pastime viable.

And hence began a series of 'alaaps' and 'vilaaps', changing notes in quick succession as a group of amateurs and 'bathroom singers' rattled the very foundations of Cautley Bhawan with their loud cacophonies. The more gifted sang softly, passionately (which wouldn't imply any level of expertise) while the more enthusiastic made it a point to convey their support for music by blasting off high notes at the top of their voices, straining their vocal cords to the maximum tensile limit possible. What accompanied was a medley of strange sounds, each one completely out of harmony with the other.

And thus, we sang deep into the wee hours. I sang, unmindful of the agony we must have caused our (few) neighbours to suffer from. I was a little held back at first, but some time later, I found myself joining and thoroughly enjoying the clamorous uproar arising from S-4, CB. If it weren't for the human tendency of fatigue and weariness, the show would never have ended.

Somebody must have been praying fastidiously to the heavens, because it finally did, after three full hours - partly because we had run out of songs to holler out aloud. But of course we had no idea it had been so long. Ceding to the quiet that had befallen earlier, we happily returned to the sanctity of our 'peaceful' rooms, realizing at once that it is us who govern our spirits, and nothing the authorities do can tamper with them. WE had turned out victorious.

P.S. : Looking forward to more concerts in the coming few months. :D

BREAKING DAWN....

Dehradun
the routine day, 1995
8:00 pm

Stuffing the math home assignment into my schoolbag, I expectantly waited for dinner to be served while the newsreader on Doordarshan rattled on about the day's newsmakers, entertainers and illusive government propaganda directed towards political gain of the ruling party, especially considering the upcoming general elections (Of course nothing made sense to a standard 2 boy, solely interested in the 'Dekh Bhai Dekh' series that followed the 8'o clock news).
The day had been fun. Chasing dragonflies, playing football, discovering dominions hitherto unknown wandering through the vast 'greenlands' of SJA, and other arbit jackassery more than made up for the meagre study and scanty reading hours. A new day would commence next morning, starting 6 am - the matador would be honking at my door, waiting to ferry me through the biting cold to 5 kms away - and so after enjoying Shekhar Suman's lucid performance thoroughly with peals of genuine laughter, I retired to bed, ignorant and unconcerned of the tomorrow that was to come.


Vadodara
March 2007
9:30 pm

"Take it easy beta ! You have plenty of time left." - was mom's reaction to the way I was gorging up huge quantities of food, a spoon in one hand and my chemistry textbook in the other. Boards were knocking at my door, banging harder and harder as the time elapsed, raising dread and despair in the deepest confinements of my heart. After hours of serious pondering, I still hadn't been able to figure out the dynamics of rotation, which was resulting in a rather irritable disposition. It took a great deal of persuation by my parents to put me to sleep by midnight, assuring me I had done well enough to fetch me a 99 percentile (and weren't they right !). Horrendous dreams haunted me through the night, repercussions of having spent more time prognosticating the result of the Indo-Pak cricket series giving me the heebie-jeebies. After all, it was going to be my first step towards an ambitious career.


Roorkee
18th Feb. 2010
00:00 hours

The day has just begun. Every ray of light originating within the cosmos has vanished into thin air. Two years ago, at this time I would have been sound asleep. Today, life has assumed a nocturnal demeanour. The ecstasy of unperturbed slumber has long been forgone.
The midsems begin 10 hours from now, but I haven't commenced preparations, yet I couldn't worry less. I have the whole night to myself, time long enough to make amends. Staring blankly into the pages of a book that had until this time been lying in a corner, carefully preserved under a film of dust, I embark upon a voyage through the ocean of discreet 'fundas' and temporal laws without further ado. I might not be able to complete my journey, but the tools of conjecture and expression would come in handy to serve my purpose of making it through the stipulated 1 hour trial of mental ability, reasoning and mugging.

Even though I have already wasted much time writing this post, I gain inspiration from Robert Frost's beautiful lines of poetry:

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And Miles to go before I sleep
And Miles to go before I sleep....."

The essence of THOMSO

The deadly foe has been vanquished yet again....and now is the time for mirth and merriment.

Toiling day and night all through the midsems, knowing that is the only way you can attain a respectable score, is a daunting task indeed (now one would rather say the effort put in is nothing compared to the tougher, life-sustaining ordeal during the endsems). It was only yesterday that exams concluded and a few days hence comes "Thomso" - this time especially for the 'Gods of fun' (I bet 'Meta' and 'Pseudo-Meta' stand for more than that). Flying rumours, commotions in the Cultural council, misgivings about the TOC and SAC's affairs, and incessant chatter about which lady is going to grace 'Vogue' - would make even an Alzheimer's patient guess IITR's annual cultural fest is approaching near.

One will do anything and everything to make sure nothing can ruin his plans for the immediate near future - be it finding a partner for the much awe-inspiring and hyped Salsa workshop, or learning new dance moves for the 'Xhilaration' nights. And why not ! Seldom does an IITian get an opportunity of displaying HIS talents to an audience comprising of people in the same league as himself - without fear of attracting sardonic mockery of his exceptionally unusual endowments. The world yonder (outside the realms of IITR) perceives us as science-loving geeks and we have this one chance to prove it wrong - to show it we are a little studious all right but nonetheless normal, fun human beings who, maybe have had a greater portion of luck (or misfortune I might say) relative to their colleagues who took the JEE but failed to make it to the top ranks.

I remember first year when we were simply mesmerised by the enormity of this fest (most of us had only seen an event as big as the school annual day until that time). Dazzled by consistently rising participation and the recognition it has, we felt heart broken on missing out on even one amongst the plethora of events hosted during those three days. Now some of us don't even care to step out in the chill of winter and visit the source of forte musical notes rocking the environs. I wonder if this transition has resulted from the two-and-a-half years spent here or from frequent disappointment of seeing a 'backup artist' as the lead singer in the much anticipated Pro-Nite. One can never say for sure what we're about to confront unless and until we actually see it happening in front of our eyes.

Nonetheless, Thomso is a welcome change from class lectures that would no doubt be prescribed by doctors as the best hypnotics for insomnia, nagging tutorials and threatening professors that have so advertently become a part and parcel of our daily lives. The time when the campus becomes abuzz with life in stark contrast to the usual quiet that befalls at most times. Three consecutive evenings of fun and respite from the terrors mentioned above. Something we're never going to enjoy again once we pass out as engineers from this glorious institution.

So much to say, while I contemplate upon my plans for doing something good enough to entice a pretty girl to come with me to Salsa after having missed out on the previous two occasions, I leave you in the company of a quote that a wise man very rightly made (yes, that was me !):

"The essence of Thomso lies not in what you can gain from it; it inherently lies in your contribution to make it better and more enjoyable."

PS : Nice work TOC ! You really deserve accolades for finally getting something like JAL into the campus (Better not be a rumour this time).

Of Swines, Humankind and the World going haywire...

I suppose one of the better reasons there are gazillions of living species is to make sure that Darwin's ground for the Theory of Evolution holds some basic merit, and that consequent to natural competition, even after annihilation of the weakest taxon, there are enough families left to inhabit this tiny speck in the vastness of the universe we call Earth. If on the contrary there were a limited few, survival of the fittest would mean one face staring at another familiar(rather similar) face and wondering if the former could at all find different anatomies anywhere else within the cosmos and get some respite from the latter's lividity.

It seems the day might arrive sooner than one would expect. Now, with the advent of Swine flu, there has been revealed what was concealed for several millenia - survival has assumed an altogether new meaning. Influenza symptoms have become the most dreaded of all human fears, when just a few months ago nobody cared if a stranger as much as sneezed on your face. The name itself incites fright. People are fleeing from the more adversely affected regions for the sake of their own well being, praying not to encounter a "running nose" on the way. Travelling to places is a dangerous proposition keeping in mind how easily the flu is communicable. This global pandemic is a sardonic mockery of human advances in medicine - at an age when baneful diseases like cancer have been vanquished by human intellect.

But where do hogs hog into the limelight? To say the least, they are the very harbingers of the virus strain that has bamboozled medical experts worldwide. It seems weird that such silent, innocuous and self-involved creatures could possess a trait so unique and distinct that can affect a race millionfold in population and incomparably superior in capability. Sadly, this distinctive attribute is enough to wreak havoc in an otherwise ignorant mortal soul.

As a measure against the spread of this pandemic, mass gatherings have been prohibited within the IITR campus (to many a person's dismay). And this memorandum has been issued at a time when things looked like life was returning back to usual. Unfortunately, it was not to be. Perhaps it would take more than a few weeks to regain the lost grandeur. Atleast, everything should fall back in place by the time some of us get the long-awaited opportunity to visit Europe or America next year.

PS:

6 fresh cases have been reported in the insti as per reports being circulated..... and i thought there couldn't be a safer place than Roorkee !

Opportunities will come and go....Until "The One" stops by !

"Ye kya hai?! Dhang ke formals pehenne hain....t-shirt nahi chalega....aur pata hai uske baad GD bhi hai?" - were words of wisdom uttered by the Great Pink Saint as I was about to leave for the pre-placement talk by the first giant company that has so far visited the campus with the object of capturing the best (in what terms is still uncertain...) of the lot for its summer internship programme next year. "Kya fark padta hai?" - was Rangeela's straightforward reply as he joined me on my way to STEP for the all-important presentation to be made by senior corporate executives to give us a first-hand view of what is expected of student interns in general, and IITians in particular, in order to make it to one of Forbes' top 50 conglomerates.

The place was teeming with dreamy souls and hyper-tensed "ghissus" all of whom were fancying their chances as the worthy suitor for the Princess of Wonderland's hand. Some looked like they had no idea they hadn't come to watch a football match while others looked set for their first real test of character. We climbed up the flight of stairs leading to the seminar hall even as the harried "placement" team of 4th-yearites (I wonder if all of them will be placed eventually) checked our identity just in case someone from COER had ideas of infiltrating into the session and somehow influencing the company to recruit from their campus instead of ours. A few enthusiasts were turned back from the door because they had forgotten to bring along their I-cards, but their determination never wavered and they decided to witness the drama from the backstage (yes, the whole thing later assumed a melodramatic form!).

Finally, after much waiting and debate over whether one of the representatives was a little out of the league of "normal" human beings, the guy who supposedly was an alumni of this totally awesome institution started conversing in a very business-like manner - the first sign that he was here only to talk shop and that these people weren't so credulous to impress upon. We went through presentations and audio-visuals that were 'refined' to suit the standards of the IITR junta, but failed to make an impact anyway. The questions that followed never seemed to cease - there was one which was met with much disdain from the corporate fraternity present; the poor inquisitor (an ambitious 4th yearite) might have to part with much more than his identification when the authorities come to know about the incident.

The final selections have been done - only 2 from the insti were fortunate enough to secure a place after staying up all night to prove their merit by exhibition of composure when all you care about is a soft bed and nobody to interrupt your snores. I first felt sad not to have been lucky enough to figure among the few names at the top of the list. But maybe, there is something waiting for me - something better than anything I've ever expected to achieve. Perhaps, by missing out on such opportunities, I am only inching closer towards that ultimate nirvana.

PS:

As I was pondering on where my destiny would take me, I suddenly stumbled upon this wonderful quote:

"I am here for a purpose and that purpose is to grow into a mountain, not to shrink to a grain of sand. Henceforth will I apply ALL my efforts to become the highest mountain of all and I will strain my potential until it cries for mercy."

It seems The Almighty really is keeping me motivated; He sure has plans.....

"FOOTBALL NIGHT"

As I enjoy the suddenly quiet and peaceful environment - seldom the air of the hostel (unless it's the end sems), I still feel amused at the reason behind this descent of calm. Though I feel like my eyes are becoming heavier every passing moment at this hour of night, I just can't keep myself from the exuberance that overcomes me and compells me to continue tapping the keyboard until I reach the end of this post before retiring to bed.

The score stands 9-7, two goals short (once again my team loses but the sport wins......blah blah blah !). A good start, but failing towards the end on account of missed chances, tiresomeness and wayward kicks in the air (I finally realised what Brownian motion actually looked like). But altogether, a fun game with friends added to the lengthening list of "Bizzare doings at IITR".
The 'crazy' part being this game was played in the hostel lawns for about an hour and a half starting just after midnight (12:30 am to be precise).

Nobody really took in my words when we started calling out people to take part in this historic game of football. (This idea, by the way, was conceived while enjoying our seldom delicious dinner at the mess.) Some were busy marauding the maps of "Counter strike" on their entertainment boxes, others were chatting incessantly about issues ranging from the Canteen food to the latest regulations regarding discipline inside the campus. A few of the latter were bewildered at the proposition and chose to remain confined to the 'bakar room', while other soccer enthusiasts happily agreed as if they were waiting for somebody to pull them out of the raging debate on senior-junior relations.

Finally, it began. Nobody regretted having come to the party and, I suppose, never will. There were bloopers, skill and confusion of all kinds. I must say this had the ingredients of an international match (minus the skill). Goals were struck by those least expected to move a bone and the 'Beckhams' of Cautley Bhawan didn't live up to their promise. Somebody shouted "That's it ! No more !" and it's over. After we've had a good time, we all depart for the comfort in our rooms that we haven't ever really appreciated.

I can hear the table clock ticking as it shows 3:30 am. This eerie silence following the match is inducing drowsiness I can no longer resist. Every living soul has gone to bed and I must follow suit. Not often does one get sound sleep at IITR and this is one such opportunity I must take advantage to the fullest. There's more to be done tomorrow, cause now is only half-time.

PS : I wonder how we maintain this newly cultivated habit once classes start in full flow...........

Musings of a Half-Engineer....

Another year has gone by. Summer vacations have come to a long awaited end; this time it was more purpose than leisure (securing an internship in these times of recession has been a daunting task indeed).....and yet again I am baffled by how fast we've moved on. It seems only a few months back that we stepped into RJB as "facchas", with the sole aspiration of making it to the top rung amongst the pool of "like-headed" souls. It was much different back then - the innocence (people would rather call it dumbness), sincerity and a steadfast resolve to perform to the best of our ability; now all has been reduced to mere blankness and uncertainty.

I still recall a vivid picture of the day I stepped into the insti - waiting expectantly to meet my roommate, thinking of how I'd deal with a clumsy, spoilt brat if need be (fortunately Abhas was way mature). It was amazing to ponder upon how the 4-year long stay at IITR would fare. With the varying "degrees of freedom" we have been subjected to in our endeavour to pursue the ultimate goal - graduating as engineers (how many actually care to?), one can't still be so sure as to what comes next. The scales keep tilting and might scare the mickey out of you just when all seems perfect, but things also happen the other way round - when all hope is lost, one might be awed at getting something way better than expected in the first place.

There has become a phenomenal change in the mannerisms of each individual compared to the day one first entered the realms of IITR Main Building. I remember the first morning when everybody was up early enough to reach the lecture hall 10 minutes before the professor set foot into the classroom. Now, bunking and proxying are the first thoughts of the day. There are "zombies" who, deprived of slumber due to nocturnal ventures, attend lectures only because they find the teacher's voice quite hypnotic or because the furniture feels cozier than the wooden structures in their gloomy rooms (which are often camouflaged by an assortment of what-nots and so difficult to be visible to the human eye beneath all the rubble).

Gathering the two-year experience so far, it seems there is one thing that keeps us motivated in our quest for the precious piece of parchment only the tenacious are destined to achieve. Recreation through increasingly ingenious propositions and hilarious pranks takes our mind off from insignificant worldly pursuits and instills a new energy to start all over again. And the fact that we won't get such fun opportunities after passing out compells us to enjoy as much as we can. That is the jargon. To put the same in simpler words, "it's only play and little work that makes Jack an 8-pointer", and not many would dare to sacrifice their identity for entering into the distinct class of bespectacled, dreamy, dreaded 9-pointers.

Now that we enter into the third year, I can only assume times are going to be even more taxing and much less fun than the blast we had all during first year - chapos(free treats) at the canteen almost everyday, pranks which had the victim's heart in his mouth, funny professors and the exceedingly hilarious Meta skit. But we thrive on hope, that still better and merrier times await us in the near (and distant) future. Whatever we do, wherever we drift away after the convocation ceremony (after passing out, obviously), I am pretty certain we'll cherish forever awesome memories of these four precious years at IITR for our entire lifetime.

Global Financial Recession impacting the Midsems?!!

It's finally over.....but the hangover still persists in the form of indolance to do anything (which is considered) fruitful.....

The Midsems have concluded after a tough ordeal which kept most of us toiling day-and-night (read "all night") to reconcile with the fact that only people who possess a "good-enough" CGPA (does anybody have the faintest idea what that actually means? I get variable opinions each soul I seek an enlightening answer from) can make it to a decent organization at the end of the 8th semester while the rest will have to be allayed with a job at "Career Point" or "Resonance" or "COER" doing the same thing as a few years back (or was it centuries ago?...because that is out of fashion now, rather a lame pastime) - gorging volumes of concepts and mugging up more than an ordinary human being is capacitated to, what lead us here in the first place - the difference being this they would not be doing for themselves because they won't be entitled to take the prestigious JEE another time.

Four years well spent devising funny stories about each and every professor in the campus, assigning them "suitable" nicknames, bringing out our best abilities in anime - and voila! You step into the latter's shoes when you know that the back benchers are never really interested in the weird theories and pestering mathematics you blabber about; they're busy carefully observing your slightest nuances which can be mimicked on "Bhawan Day" in front of an audience from the entire insti with yourself gracing the occasion as "chief guest". What an honour!

This situation was an alien one until the previous year, and stems from the recent financial recession that has affected not only "raddiwalas", "Thomso - 09", businessmen, corporates and governments alike, but also final year students in search of propective employers. This wariness has been bestowed upon us second yearites by our seniors who have witnessed the consequences of the global slowdown in the form of companies not willing to recruit. As I come to know about the interviews for the selection process, a not-so-major firm was made fun of when students haughtily stated to the interviewer - "We never wanted to be part of your workforce but have come for the sole purpose of gaining some experience for tackling interview questions". Now the same firm has been requested "humbly" to return to the premises.

What if the situation continues for a few more years? Heeding the fact that companies today are more interested in your CGPA rather than your instumental role in organizing "Thomso" as coordinator or even convenor, as secy of various student societies or as a 4-time inter-IIT player - our peers have taken up study more seriously than ever before.

The number of doubts fielded by professors who earlier used to have the front benchers sleeping in their class, has increased exponentially. The library and reading room get occupied to their full capacity a week before the midsems. Everybody seems to be giving some importance to the midsems, subsequently increasing the woes of "Ghissus" who earlier had no challenges from any other quarters. And to further add to this pandemonium, the department has tightened the noose around our necks by means of attendance backs and substituting a "dassi" for an "atthi".

It would be in our best interests if this turmoil in financial systems around the world is brought to a halt immediately. The longer it persists, the longer it will take for us to return to our "normal" way of living at IITR.

PS : Mr. Obama, are you listening?